The ginger ale thing
FOR ALMOST 140 years now, American soda pop connoisseurs have treasured Vernor's, a "deliciously different" ginger ale invented, and almost exclusively consumed, in Detroit. "The Vernor's Story" (University of Michigan), a newly published account of the rise and fall of that extra-fizzy, extra-gingery concoction, fails to explain why a Vernor's mixed with vanilla ice cream came to be known, in that city, as a "Boston cooler," but in every other way it's an admirable work.
The author, marketing consultant Lawrence L. Rouch, breaks ranks with his more jaded peers in touting pharmacist James Vernor's "vision of producing a quality product and a different taste experience [that] continues to delight even today in a field of mass-merchandised soft drinks." However, although Vernor's survived competition from local competitors such as sarsparilla-flavored Dr. Kronk's, Faygo Rock and Rye, and Stroh's Birch Beer, and is still sold today throughout the Midwest (and to retired Midwesterners in Florida and California), it never became an industry leader. According to Rouch, a Vernor's loyalist, that's probably because "the taste for delicious difference is one that not everyone can acquire."
